Intervention
by DisappointedShipper
Summary: She swayed slightly on her feet, but she was still standing. No, she was nothing like that, she was not her mother. Never...When Olivia finally comes undone, Elliot is there. E/O.
1. Chapter 1

Something that's been in my head and really refused to go away until I got it out.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Ten. Olivia counted ten pairs of eyes staring back at her. Although, she might have been seeing double, she really couldn't be too sure. She took another gulp of her bourbon and glanced around at the faces in front of her. Some were blank, some etched in worry. The amber liquor burned its way down her throat. Her mother was a vodka drinker, Belvedere to be exact. For some reason though, it was never her cup of tea. Pfft. Tea. Maybe she'd would have been able to convince the crowd in front of her that she was drinking tea if she had poured her liquor into a mug instead of the clear tumbler. But she wasn't expecting company tonight. Obviously. Really, she should have asked for the key back when Brian moved out. She would have, had she known he was going to walk straight in with a group of do-gooders.

So she sat there in awkward silence, sipping, while watching the scene before her. Some, like Fin, sat down and stared her straight in the eye, trying to discern how to approach the inevitable. Others, like Melinda, stood and stared anywhere but at Liv.

Fuck. She just wants to be alone right now. Alone. The way she came into this world, the way she's spent all of her life and surely the way she is fucking going out of it. It was so quiet she could swear she heard Casey breathing across the room. Shit, someone has to speak, might as well be her. "Who died?"

"It could be you, if you keep this up." Cragen's voice was somber next to her, tinged with sadness and a sense of knowing. He still had a tan, the cruise obviously agreed with him. Liv looked over at him. He looked younger, happier, with a renewed sense of hope. If anybody deserved a second chance, it was him. She was little too lost in her thoughts because before she knew it he had reached over and pulled the glass out of her hand.

"Heeeey. Do I go into YOUR house and take things away from you?" she leaned forward, close enough for him to smell the liquor rolling off her breath, "Last I checked, you weren't my boss anymore."

He continued to stare into her eyes. Didn't mean he didn't care about her, didn't think of her like a daughter. And to see what she's doing to herself now, it breaks his heart.

"Liv, we are just here because we are worried about you, and we love you."

Her eyes turned to Brian sitting on the sofa across the way, Munch anchored to his left, Fin to his right. She wanted it to work with him, really, she did. But too much bad shit happened all at once. It was as if someone had picked her out of a lineup to purposefully turn her life upside down. Everything that has happened should have pulled them together, made them a stronger couple, should it not have? If anything it made her want to crawl further inside, somewhere deep and dark where no else could find her. Certainly not Brian. More and more she pulled away, more and more he worked longer hours undercover. And that was just fine by her. With him gone there was no more pretending. No more hiding the marred flesh under her clothes, ducking from his questions and watchful eyes, no…with him gone she could just be. And that was what she wanted. She wasn't fine, that was a fucking lie. But she wasn't going to bring him down with her either.

"Brian, I'm sorry. I know I've hurt you, let you down, whatever. But I can't do this. And to bring everyone here, to…to what? Make them think that I have a fucking problem when I don't, it's not going to get me back. It can't be fixed," spilling, she could feel the tears brimming and beginning to spill from her eyes, she quickly brought her hand up to wipe them away, "nothing can be fixed."

"Do you feel you need to be fixed, Olivia?"

Ah, yes. George Huang. In the background, blending in to the furniture almost, observing all around him. His dark brown eyes bore into her. Unrelenting. Was he even blinking? She couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry if you came all the way up here from Oklahoma to shrink my head, Doc, but I already have a psychiatrist."

He continued to stare into her, her glib answer not even eliciting a change in his facial features, "I'm not here as a doctor, Olivia, I came as a friend. You need help."

A deep chuckle escaped from within her chest. It sounded nothing like her. If she hadn't known it was coming from her she'd have wondered who the fuck it belonged to. It seemed fitting. Maybe she didn't even know herself anymore. "A friend? Funny how I have all of you here in my living room, outta the woodwork…"

"Liv, I called George and asked him to come," Alex started to say, her deep blue eyes looking worried behind her usual dark framed glasses. Olivia raised her hand to silence her.

"Why, Alex? Why are any of you here, in my living room, taking up my time? I do not recall inviting any of you here. I may have had a few tonight, but I would have remembered throwing together a party." She stood and took some large strides across the room and into the kitchen. She needed a drink. She had one, but Cragen had taken it. She glanced back over her shoulder at him, but the drink was nowhere in sight. Where the hell did it go? Fuck it, a fresh one will do. One swift tug of the fridge door and an ice cold beer is in her hands. She quickly gets the top off and take a few gulps down, eyes closed. Maybe when she opens them everyone will be gone and this would have all been some kind of horrible, alcohol induced dream.

One, two, three…she counts, then opens her eyelids. No, they are all still here watching her. She has to wonder why the images she wants to stay disappear, but these remain. Shitty luck. Her eyes close again. Five, six, seven.

"Liv, would you please just sit down and hear us out?" Nick's voice cuts through her counting. When her eyes open and regain focus, she sees everyone has taken a seat at either the sofas or the chairs at the table. Only Huang remains standing in the corner.

"For what, Nick? I don't need to hear it."

"Liv, you've been suspended. This is a big deal." Fin spoke low and evenly, not a hint of exasperation in his voice as she had just heard in Nick's. "Something's gotta be done, babe."

"I was fine, it was blown way out of proportion…"

"You reeked of booze." There. He said it. Leave it to Fin to keep the conversation real. "You were on the job reeking of booze."

"Like I said, blown out of proportion." She was still a little drunk from the night before, she had a little too much. It happens. It would have worn off throughout the day.

Cragen took her in from across the room. He could see his own illness in her, the denial, the justification, he had to do something to help her. That's why he called everyone here. When you spend all day every day of your life fighting for others, you forget to fight for yourself. He had to make sure that Olivia fought just as hard for her own life as she did for anyone else's. "You're lucky my retired ass still has some pull around here. If you're willing to get some help, you will still have a job waiting for you. In the meantime, Alex Eames will take over for you while you get better. Get some help."

She slammed her beer down on the countertop. Melinda visibly jumped. Munch shook his head in disgust. Olivia kept her eyes down on the beer bottle, suds rising from the neck, "Help for WHAT?" Say it. Someone just fucking say it.

"You have a drinking problem, Olivia. This is an intervention."

She looked up at the source of the voice. Munch. She hadn't had a chance to see him since his retirement. He promised he'd be around, stop by, but just like every other promise in her life, and it was unfulfilled. Yet here he was, on her couch, tell her she has a drinking problem. His face looked drawn and aged. Everyone in the room looked aged. When had time escaped them? It was like she joined SVU, blinked and 15 years happened. It was written on every single face in the room. Every molested child, every battered wife, every raped woman, each story was on their face in the form of a wrinkle, in some cases, on their body as a bullet wound scar. Thinking about the quickly passing time made her very tired suddenly. She wanted everyone to go so she could get some sleep.

"Oh, Munch. From conspiracy theorist to counselor? I do not have a drinking problem and I sure as hell do not need an intervention. What I need is for all of you to get the hell out so I can get some sleep."

She picked the beer back up and took another sip and once again closed her eyes. Maybe, hopefully, when she opens them again this will all go away.

Fat chance. "Olivia, your mother was an alcoholic, did she also say she didn't have a problem when confronted?" Huang continued. "You know, alcoholism is hereditary, and scientist are even close to isolating a gene that may be passed along…"

"Well then, am I a fucking rapist too?" She asked loudly, not angrily, but just loudly enough to be heard and cut through the bullshit psych babble. She didn't open her eyes. The lids seemed too heavy right now.

"What?" George was shocked by the outburst.

"Going by your logic," she continued, finally able to gather some strength to open the lids that seemed weighed down and look at him, "I'm drinking because my mom was an alcoholic and it's hereditary, my dad was a rapist, I have half his genes, am I a rapist too?"

"Liv, don't be ridiculous." Casey chided, arms crossed in front of her protectively.

_Half my genes are drunk and the other half are violent and cruel._

_Look how great you turned out._

She gasped. A swift intake of air that she silently prayed no one else noticed. A comment made years ago, but she heard it just as loud and clear as if he was standing next to her repeating the words. He had caught her off guard as he said it, her back to him as she was walking away, but it brought a smile to her face then. And it did now. Not that she felt great. She never saw herself as he saw her. And he probably wouldn't think much of her now, standing here, surrounded by all these people. People that they both knew. But he walked away. Maybe now it was her turn.

"Look, I appreciate you all coming down here. I mean, Fin, you probably have some hot babe waiting on you somewhere. Alex, Case, I only ever hear from you guys once in a blue moon, maybe an occasional lunch date to tell me about some new guy one of you might be screwing, so really, thanks for stopping by." Alex's mouth fell open in a shocked O. Casey rolled her eyes. Olivia walked with a fresh beer in hand that she just pulled from the fridge to the center of the peanut gallery in her living room. "Cap, you should be living your new life. All of you, go live your lives and let me live mine, however I want to do it."

"Liv, I love you." Cassidy had been quiet much of the time. Maybe he didn't know what to say, that's probably why their relationship never did work. He never understood, never knew what to say or do. He was a good guy, a nice guy, but it just didn't work for her. Maybe if she was someone who wasn't so fucked in the head, without the trauma and the past that plagued her he would be enough. But she's not and he isn't.

"And I'm sorry, Brian. I am. I'm sorry I didn't want more 15 years ago and I'm sorry I can't give you more now. This is who I am. And because of that, we cannot work. Now, if you're all going to sit here, and take turns telling me how much you love me and what pain this is causing you," she laughed sardonically, yes because she's inconveniencing them, apparently, "could you all please do it as you are walking out of the apartment? I have had a bitch of a day and I'd really like to enjoy my beverage and catch some sleep."

Cragen's eyes shifted from the drunken performance in front of him to his cell phone. He figured it would be hell getting her to admit she had a problem. It was hard on him and he couldn't even count the number of times he had had a drink and blacked out only to wake up somewhere completely different, sometimes even another state, not sure how he got from point A to point B. Olivia had been burying so much for so long, it was only a matter of time before the walls would come crumbling down. Lewis was really the straw that broke the camel's back. Not that she would say it. She sought help, which encouraged him. But there were years of damage that needed to be undone. But the first step, the most important for her now, would be to get her to admit that the drinking has become a part of her and to get help from there.

He loved her like a daughter. He tried to protect her the best that he could and so he made a phone call. It wasn't an easy call to make, and he crossed a lot of boundaries by doing it. However, he hoped that it would help, and it would lead to her salvation and not further undoing. Any minute he was expecting the doorbell to ring. Hopefully there was no backing out.

As lost as he was in his thoughts, Olivia was still asking everyone to go, questioning their reasons for being there and insisting she was fine.

"Look, for the last time, this has all been blown way out of proportion. I will straighten everything out as soon as I can." She swayed slightly on her feet, but she was still standing. No way in hell she was an alcoholic. Her mother could barely stand. She remembers being 8 or 10, holding her mother up as best as she could to help her make it to the toilet before she puked all over the floor. No, she was nothing like that, she was not her mother. Never.

She walked to the front door, gesturing with her beer towards it, "Now, it's late, I'm tired. I don't need any lectures, any stories. I am fine." No one moved.

She couldn't believe it. Her fucking apartment and no one was even standing up to leave. All she wanted was some fucking peace and quiet. Didn't she deserve that much? She never asked for anything, from any of them. They could do that for her, at least.

That's it, she was going to scream. Talking nicely to these assholes was getting her nowhere.

She opened her mouth, but before even a syllable could come out, there was a knocking on the door. _Thump, thump, thump. _

It was loud. Who could that possibly be? She felt like almost everybody she knew was crowded into her home. Simon maybe? Perhaps someone remembered she actually did have one living family member out there, even if she didn't make it a habit to keep in touch.

She rolled her eyes and let a "fuck" drop from her breath as she went to the open the door, "Whomever you are, the party is about over, so you can just…" she didn't finish her thought, once the door was open she was frozen in place. The beer slipped carelessly from her fingers and shattered to the floor beneath her, the liquid seeping into the toes of her socks. Blue eyes. Crystal blue eyes were staring into her chocolate ones, which she was sure were wide open and probably a little misty. His eyes.

_I'm your partner, for better or worse._

"Elliot?" it came out strangled, but it was all she could really muster. This had to be some weird dream. She must have passed out after a couple of drinks and she's imagining all of this.

"I called him, Liv." Cragen's voice called from somewhere behind, but it seemed far away. All she could see and hear was in the couple of feet surrounding her and Elliott. Nothing else really existed outside of this little bubble in the entrance way except the two of them.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here. But I'm here now. Can I come in?"


	2. Chapter 2

He took a deep breath before he knocked. His insides were fluttering, jumping around almost and if he had food in his system he's sure it would have come up by now. Nervous. Why was he so nervous? It was Liv. He rolled his eyes. Yes, the same Liv he walked out on without a second glance back at. If only she had known what was going on in his head. Fuck, he didn't even really know. In the marines they had taught him to be aware of IED's. You never knew that the other side had up their sleeves when you were on the ground. He felt like that shit was in his mind. His mind was full of IED's that he had to carefully tread across, and killing that girl had started to set them off one by one. He was unravelling, and he didn't want to drag her into it. Then it became easy to ignore her calls for a few weeks, then months, and here they are a few years later.

He had gotten a call from Cragen that afternoon. Truth be told, he probably wouldn't have answered if he knew it was him. He was still trying to work his way through how to reach out to his former colleagues and ease back into his former life. It's just that Cragen called from his girlfriend's phone and he didn't recognize the number. Elliot smiled. The old bastard had a girlfriend. Good for him. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was the man who put his ass on the line way too much and too often for him. For all of them, really.

Cragen didn't mince words. He said laid it all on the line. Liv had a problem, and she needed someone to help pull her head out of her ass. Elliot had stood in his living room, behind the back of the couch, free hand gripping the end of the couch until his knuckles turned white. He listened to the captain tell him about Olivia's life, the trial, the whole ordeal. He should have been there. Fuck, he should have at least called. Sent flowers. Shit, would that help? What says, "I'm sorry you were tortured and drugged?" Orchids? He shook his head. He is a dumbass. A dumbass who walked away and has wanted a way back in and still hasn't had the balls to talk to her, and now that she's in need, he's supposed to come charging in? She's going to hate him more if she doesn't already.

At least 20 minutes had passed as he stood outside the door of her apartment. The apartment she had apparently been sharing with Cassidy. He rolled his eyes. Cassidy. What the fuck made her walk down that road again? Sure he was a nice guy. That was never an issue he had with the kid. He just wasn't…enough. He couldn't know her. Understand her. Maybe he himself didn't know her and understand her like he thought. But she deserved someone who would never give up trying, who could match her wit for wit, toe to toe and never back down, not matter how hard she pushed away. And he knew that could never be Cassidy.

He needed to do something, and before he could find a reason not to, he brought his knuckles up to the door and knocked a few times. His breath stilled within him. He wasn't breathing in or out. He wouldn't exhale until he could see her face again. And just like that, the door opened. And there she stood. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And he exhaled. He could breathe again. It was a breath he felt he had been holding since the last time he walked out of the one six.

And then glass was breaking. He watched as her beer fell from her hand to the floor, the liquid pooling by her toes. He used the opportunity to study her, wanting to etch as many details to memory as he could. In case she slammed the door in his face any second. Her hair was shorter then he remembered it being. Not as short as she sometimes cut it in the early years, but shorter than it had been. Her toes were in some cozy socks, and her long legs were clothed in black leggings. As his eyes made their way back up, he saw the familiar gray hoodie she had on. She was still staring at him. Her eyes were moist, not that she was crying, but some moisture had pooled there. He was sure his eyes reflected something similar. He was waiting for her to close the door right in his face, slap him, something. She just stood, however.

"Elliot?" it came out strangled, but it was all she could really muster. This had to be some weird dream. She must have passed out after a couple of drinks and she's imagining all of this.

"I called him, Liv." Cragen's voice called from somewhere behind, but it seemed far away. All she could see and hear was in the couple of feet surrounding her and Elliott. Nothing else really existed outside of this little bubble in the entrance way except the two of them.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here. But I'm here now. Can I come in?"

She said his name. He had heard her say it a million times in the voicemails he couldn't bring himself to erase, or the dreams he had, or the memories he couldn't shake. But here she was, saying it in living color. It was music to his ears.

But that's all she said, nothing further came out. She took a step back and he entered the apartment, stepping over the broken bottle and puddle of beer. She closed the door behind him, and wordlessly he reached behind and grabbed her hand, pulling her along and away from the entrance. "Here, watch your feet, I'll clean that up."

Of course, he's here 30 seconds and he's ready to fix things. She raised both her hands, "Just leave it." She walked back across the living room and left him on the other side, not far from Huang. She needed space, suddenly there was not enough air in the room for her, Elliot and all of these people. It was too small of a space, and he took up too much of it, he always had.

She stood on the farthest wall she could find, arms up protectively around her middle.

"I see we called in the big guns, what are you doing here, Elliot?" It was the same thing everyone wanted to know. Some wanted to greet him, others wanted to question him. But he was here for Olivia, and that took precedence over everything else at the moment.

Cragen turned to Olivia, positioning his entire body towards her. "I told you, I called him."

"Yeah, I got that, for what?"

"Well I figured maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to talk some sense into you. And it seems we need someone to."

She laughed again. This was rich. She really couldn't believe any of them. Her body doubled over slightly, as if it was the most hysterical thing she had ever heard. "Really?"

Her former bosses just nodded. Where was she going with this?

She straightened her posture once again and quieted her laughing down to a small chuckle, "You always thought we were too close and you bring him back here to, to what? Force me to get help?"

Elliot smiled, that same shit eating smile he's always had, "What can I say, I have a way of being persuasive. Especially when it comes to you." Nice to know he's the same cocky bastard he always has been. Time hasn't dulled that.

"Things change, Stabler. People leave, life goes on and you learn that heart to hearts and late night dinners when you couldn't sleep and stakeout chats about no one understanding you but your partner were just bullshit when said partner turns around and bolts without notice."

"Liv…" Fuck, she went there faster than he expected her to. He wanted to sort everything out with her. But not with an audience, and certainly once she had agreed to some kind of help.

"Look, don't sweat it. Shit happened. I get it. You don't owe me anything and I'm sorry you got dragged down from Queens to rescue me, I remember how much you hated that."

His eyes crinkled in confusion. "What?"

She closed her eyes, the words coming out, and the scenes replaying behind her eyelids as if it just happened. "I need to know you can do your job and not wait for me to come to the rescue…"

Puzzled eyes glanced around the room, wondering what the meaning of that was. But Elliot knew. He had said those words to her after Ryan was murdered, and he had let Gitano slip through his fingers.

"I was angry, when I said that, it wasn't your fault. I made a choice…." He exhaled, "I chose you."

She shook her head, back and forth slowly, she wanted to open her eyes, she wanted to take in the sight of him, in her living room, feet from her, which both scared her shitless and excited her at the same time. Well, and infuriated her if she was being honest. All these people crammed in the living room and she could feel herself being drawn to him like a magnet. The moment he walked through the door his scent had invaded her nostrils, the air around her and was not letting go.

"You don't need to be here, El. You don't owe me anything. No one does. This is me, okay. All me. I need to sort this shit out in my head, and if having a few drinks helps me do that, then let me. Okay?" She started pacing in a small area no one else was in, her thoughts seemed to be jumbling together, everything at once hitting her. "None of you need to worry about me. I have been on my own for as long as I can remember, I can't think of a time when I wasn't. And I'm not trying to whine or complain, I'm just stating facts. Having a drink or two here or there helps ease the tension. It's har…" her voice cracked, she wasn't going to cry. She was not going to let any of the see her cry. "It's hard living inside your own head, replaying something over and over again." She decided to take a seat in the corner, her back up against the wall, "I've tried to move past it, I'm going to therapy. Sometimes I think it's really working. And then there's times when I think I need a drink to help me sleep. To get the images out of my head."

He wanted to run over and scoop her up in his arms, tell everyone else to get the fuck out, he could take care of her from here. But he had no right. Out of anyone in this room he had the least right to try to take over and fix her, as much as he wanted to.

She stared down at her hands, trying to avoid all the eyes in front of her. "You think my mom didn't try therapy? She did. She went for years, but she still came home and hit the bottle. We've all worked this job for so long, have we not all seen things we wish we could un-see?" She glanced up, finally taking her eyes off her hands, and landing on Casey, "Casey, your first case, did you not ask me how I did it?" her eyes turned to Munch, "Munch, do you not remember the Holt case, the piano teacher? Going through tape upon tape of him molesting his students?" her eyes shifted slightly to Cassidy, "Fuck, Brian you left not long after I joined SVU. You couldn't hack it. Now all of you imagine all those horrible things you saw. And then seeing them happen in person. Being handcuffed and watching someone hurt another. Having him on top of you, telling you that you're next to be raped, to be killed."

She really hadn't wanted to cry. She was trying like hell to avoid it. But the hot tears fell like little streams down her cheeks. Quickly she brought the sleeve of her hoodie up, using it to wipe at her face. When was this going to be over?

"You can all sit here and say that I have a problem, and tell me that it's hereditary because my mother was an alcoholic…"

"She fell drunk down a flight of stairs, Liv." Elliot interrupted her, "I'm sure no one here wants to get that call one day about you."

"Then I'll avoid the subway stairs."

He rolled his eyes. Fucking flippant ass comments she makes.

"Look, she was an alcoholic. She was also a smart and accomplished woman and I had to drag her inside when she came stumbling in from a night out and make sure she made it to the bathroom before she puked all over the floor. That's not me. I got suspended. I had a bit too much the day before, I was still a bit buzzed. I will work it out. But I never understood her until I came close to walking in her shoes. And none of you will understand me until you've walked in mine. So I don't need you guys," she pointed towards the trio of Casey, Alex and Melinda, "Over there sharing looks and whispers. Or you," looking towards Cragen, "Acting as my father calling this little pow-wow. And I don't need Fin and Munch here…or Nick. Same goes for you, George, you can make a return flight to Oklahoma. Brian, I don't need you telling me you love me, because really, you should want something more than what I could give you. It's not much, it was never going to be much. And I sure as hell don't need you here, Elliot. 13 years and not even a return fucking phone call when I just wanted to see if you were alright. Go back to your family and forget you were summoned out here. I know you all were supposed to sit here and take turns begging me to get help, do this do that, but I will handle myself. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you all to leave. Now."

Everyone slowly got up and started making their way towards the door. Melinda, Casey and Alex each asked her to call them if she needed something. George said he was going to be in town for a while if she wanted to meet up. Fin, Nick and Munch each asked her to talk to them as well if she needed something. She really couldn't stand it any longer. And here she was left, with her former boss, her former lover and her former partner, neither budging an inch.

Brian broke the silence after the others had left. "Liv, I love you. I don't care what has happened, I don't care that you think this has pushed us apart, we can find our way back, I'm not bailing on you." He stood and took a few steps towards her but she raised her hands up, as if shielding him off. She can't handle it. Really, even if Lewis hadn't happened, their relationship wouldn't have survived. Lewis was just the giant bomb that blew it up sooner than she anticipated.

"But I bailed, and that's not changing. I'm sorry. Please, go."

He nodded his head and turned away. He'll give her space, but he wasn't giving up.

Cragen stood, "I'll leave as well, and I know you're not ready, but when you are, come find me. I'll help you." And he followed Cassidy out the door. One left. Of course it had to be the most stubborn son of a bitch that was still here.

"That's your cue to leave, Stabler." She motioned for him to follow Cragen out but he stood in place, arms behind his back, hands clasped. His shoulders looked broad as his t shirt stretched across his chest. He still had that imposing look about him, the kind that would make the guys in interrogation want to piss their pants once they saw him. Except he didn't scare her.

"I'll leave. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. There's been a lot I've been trying to sort through. I didn't handle it well, any of it. And I should have been around for you. But I'm here now. I'll make it up to you."

She shook her head and looked across the room, in the opposite direction. Anything to avoid looking at him. She noticed that Cragen had set her bourbon high up on a shelf. The amber colored liquid sat still, as if frozen. That was exactly how she felt, frozen, with Elliot Stabler in her new living room, telling her he's sorry.

He continued on, "I know you don't have the energy right now to hash this out. But from what I hear, you're suspended. So you have time, and guess what, so do I. So I'll be back tomorrow. We have a lot of catching up to do."

She finally turned to face him again, "And what, you're going to come riding in like some knight in fucking armor and fix it all?"

He smiled, that cocky ass smile again, "No, not a knight, but I can listen like a friend. I'll be back, I promise."

And with that he turned and walked out the door, leaving her there in the middle of her now empty apartment. She could still smell his cologne in the air. Maybe that would help her get some sleep tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I should seriously be working on some projects, but pesky ass El and Liv are begging me to breathe some life into them. Thanks for the reviews :)

I own nothing :(.

A slice of sunlight landed on her closed eyelids, and she turned to face away from the source of the annoying rays and found her nose in the back of the couch. Olivia fell back onto her backside and lifted her head slightly, bringing her hand up to shield her eyes from the offensive beams. She slowly opened her eyes and let out a groan. She was in the living room, asleep on the couch, she hadn't remembered crashing out here.

The last time she recalled, she had reached up and pulled her warm drink off the high shelf Cragen had placed it on and gulped it down, letting the room temperature liquor sear its path down her throat. She remembered pouring another one, and then just wanting to lay down on the couch for just a moment. She was tired, she wanted to sleep and she was pissed by the motley crew of assholes that decided they were going to squat in her apartment and tell her how to live her life. But more than anything, she wanted to be around the familiar scent that lingered in the air. It had been a long time since she had been around Elliot, and here he had been in her living room, his presence leaving an indelible mark in a new home that had yet to be touched by his existence. That was the thing about her old apartment, memories of him were everywhere. Pictures, reminders of late night talks, dinners they had when he *was separated from Kathy and not sure where to go so she would invite him over for Chinese and beer…it was all around her. But in the new apartment with Cassidy, it was a fresh start, new memories. Elliot's enormous life force hadn't touched this home yet and she had to dig in to photo albums or the recesses of her mind to think of him with Brian around.

But that has all changed. For the mere minutes he spent in her apartment he left reminders of himself lingering in the air and she could almost still picturing him standing in the spot he was in, might as well burned a hole in the fucking carpet because she'd remember him in that spot forever.

She swung her legs over the couch and felt her toes touch the floor. Her arms went above her head in a long, languid stretch, her body hummed with nerves that were starting to come alive. Maybe it was from sleeping on the couch all night. Or maybe it was the little extra pumping of blood she felt knowing Elliot was here. In her home.

She shouldn't care. She really shouldn't give a fuck. This was a man who walked out on her, walked out on a partnership without as much as a text message. She understood that he would have needed time. She even got that he might not be able to face anyone at first. However, what she didn't get was him staying away so long. Throughout everything. Munch and Cragen's retirement, her ordeal with Lewis….not as much as a "Hey, you ok?" email. She stood up and crossed over to the kitchen, needing to clean up the remnants of her night. He didn't owe her anything. She didn't want to sound like some harpy bitch, but he could have at least let her know he was alive. That he hadn't fallen into some black hole somewhere. She was expecting him to walk away from the job, not her.

The glass was swept into the dustpan in her hand as she bent down on the floor. She closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. Maybe that was the problem. She was the job too, and that's why it had been easy to walk away from her as well. And all the lovely stories she told herself about being best friends and partners, the longest relationship she had ever had with a man…it was all bullshit she told herself. Excuses she needed to feed off of so she didn't have to think about the fact that her life boiled down to the job and her partner, while his had a larger scope outside of it all that included family and a wife….things she wouldn't dare encroach on.

She walked back across to the kitchen. A conversation not long ago floated into her consciousness.

_You love him, don't you? You're forty years old wondering if you'll ever have a family or if riding around with him will be enough for you for the rest of your life. Did you really think he'd leave his wife and kids for you? You spent the last five years hoping he'd suddenly turn and realize you're the woman he can't live without. _

She might as well have been throwing the accusation out at herself. She should have. It's so easy to find our own flaws within another. She was the job, and he got to have his cake and eat it too. The wife and kids were waiting in Queens for him to go home to and she was waiting in the car to be there for the ugly and nasty parts that he couldn't bear to show his loves ones at home. It worked out well for him, until it didn't, and he was gone. And here she was, watching the brown shards of broken glass fall into the garbage.

A shower. She needed a shower, to wash away the broken shards of her life from the last 24 hours. No more thinking about Elliot. The captain called him, he felt like shit for some reason and made an appearance for poor, broken Olivia. As far as she was concerned, that was that.

_Thump….thump…thump. _

There was a soft thudding against her front door, as if someone was pounding it softly with the heel of their palm. She rolled her eyes and went for the door. She hoped to hell it wasn't Brian, after last night, she needs to consider changing the locks.

Those blue eyes, there they were again, shining and as bright as the rays of sun that had pierced her own brown orbs earlier. They danced and sparkled. Why the fuck did he look so giddy?

And just like that, every nerve ending in her body was humming to life once again.

His grin spread, she looked tired, but he was damn sure she would make some time for him.

"Sooo are you going to let me in?" his eyes darted down to his full hands. He had a brown bag in one and a tray of coffee in the other.

"For what?"

A chuckle bubbled up from his throat, "Morning to you too, sunshine. I promised you I'd be back today. So here I am, with bagels and coffee. Unless you're not hungry…"

Just then her stomach betrayed her by letting out a loud grumble. Fuck. He smiled and pushed his way past her through the door. That was all the answer he had needed.

Once again, here he was, invading her space, sucking all of the air out of the room.

He sat the coffee and bagels on the kitchen countertop and looked around. "I didn't really get a chance to look around last night. This is a nice place. I uh…," he looked around once again, running his hands up and down his jeaned thighs, "I almost used my key. I didn't know if you'd be sleeping in, I kind of wanted you to sleep as long as you needed to, but then I realized that you have a whole new place, so the key wasn't an option. Then I stopped and thought that after all you've been through, it might freak you out to have someone just walking in anyways even if I did have a key…"

"Elliot."

"I'm rambling, I'll shut up."

"I was actually just about to take a shower, but if you want to hang out for a few while I do that I'll try to keep it quick." She looked to him for reassurance before heading towards the bathroom. She just needed to escape, to get to a room he wasn't in. Last night, his cologne invaded her sense. Today it was much simpler, when he brushed past her, soap and mint wafted into her nostrils. A few moments, she just wanted a few moments alone. She should ask him to leave, tell him he's not needed or wanted like he essentially did to her, but no matter what, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet at least.

He watched her walk away, coming…going…he just loved to watch her move. He always had. For a long time, he just had memories of her gracefully walking in or out, but now to be here, with her and to see her in the flesh, it was more than he could take. He wanted to unload on her, explain everything and anything he could to get her to understand and forgive. He'd get down on his knees and beg her if she wanted him to. Every day, every day since he had walked out he churned over ideas in his head on how to see her, how to be a part of her life again. Don Cragen gave him that entrance. He never wanted it like this. But he is here now, and he'll help her though whatever she needs, hell and back. Then when she is ready, he can let her know what's been burning inside his heart and mind for so long. A fresh start for both of them. He can only pray.

He walked around, surveying the apartment. Some things were definite Olivia touches. Others he could only assume were Cassidy inspired. She had heard Olivia tell him last night that she could never be what he wanted or needed. It sounded definite. If she really loved Cassidy, he would help her, he would encourage her to be with him, even as it killed him inside and ate away at his soul. He had 13 years with Olivia, and a couple where he was almost free to make his move and let her know how he felt, but he fucked it up. He didn't regret it, that'd be regretting his son and he could never do that. But he does wish he hadn't stuck around for a marriage that was briefly patched by Eli's birth, but could never be fixed entirely. They grew apart, that was ok, and he just loved Kathy in a different way now. As a friend, as mother to his kids, but his passion was held with the woman that was currently a room away from him. Just the thought of her so close, standing under a hot spray of water, water drops sliding down her perfectly supple skin, pooling in areas he longed to kiss and touch. He adjusted his stance slightly, his jeans feeling a little tighter in the groin region. He needed to refocus his thoughts, he had no right to be thinking about her naked with everything else that has been going on.

Some pictures on a built in caught his eye. Her and her mom, one of her and Cassidy. "Haha," he audibly laughed at another of Munch in a tux holding her. That must have been his retirement party. Some of Fin and what he could assume were her new partner and some blonde. Calvin. The picture of Calvin was encased in an ornate silver frame. He lifted it to inspect it further, the kid had grown since the last time he had seen him. When he lifted it a free standing picture that had been just leaning against the back of Calvin's fell forwards. Elliot picked it up and smiled, small drops of moisture doting the edge of his lower lids. It was a picture of them. He had a beard he was growing in, and a t-shirt. Her hair was short, but not as short as she had it at some points, it was a little grown out and tousled. It also looked a little bleached. Must have been during one of her highlight phases, he rolled his eyes. She always looked beautiful, but the dark hair suited her best. She had on a tank top and was smiling, they were both smiling and holding on to each other. It was a picture that had been used quite a few times when they were undercover, posing as married. They looked every bit a comfortable couple in that picture, a bright future ahead. A wistful smile played upon his face and he set everything back as it was. Maybe they'll get that chance to be that couple. He shouldn't think so far ahead. It was one day and some bagels, she could still tell him to fuck off at any moment.

"Ahem."

He turned around, her damp hair hung in loose waves around her face, which was freshly scrubbed. She looked adorable. If this was how she looked every single morning he wanted to have a front row seat. Staring, he was staring, he needed to stop. She had changed into another pair of black leggings and a white t shirt.

"More leggings, do you not own real pants anymore?" he teased. Although he didn't mind the way the leggings would hug her ass, and if she turned he could get a better look.

"Fuck you, Stabler."

"And there it is. Well come on, let's eat something. I was thinking of scrambling you some eggs, but I'm sure your fridge is empty. So I thought maybe we could take a walk, get some groceries for you."

He brought the coffee and bagels to the coffee table and took a seat on the couch, patting the spot next to him for her to sit.

She played with her fingers for a moment, fidgeting before taking a seat. She was half hoping he'd be gone when she got out of the shower and it'd make this easier on her. Now sitting here, with him, what was there to say?

She brought the coffee up to her lips, and closed her eyes and she inhaled the aromatic scent, taking a sip and letting the warmth spread through her body.

He chomped on his bagel and turned to face her, "So, about last night…"

"Don't," she stopped him, taking another small sip before proceeding, "Don't, I don't want to talk about it. We can talk about something else, but not about me. You don't get to just walk in here after three years and expect me to spill my guts to you and ask you to fix it. You're not a band aid."

He nodded knowingly, "I'm not a band aid, got it. Well can I be a friend?" She turned her face to look at him, and when she didn't speak, he kept going, "I may not have been the best one lately, and I may have to earn your trust back, but I'm willing to try."

"If I can't pour my soul out to Brian, or Alex or Casey, and I have to pay a fucking shrink to listen to me, what makes you think I'll play along with you?" she seriously wanted to know. What made him think he could fall back into her life so easily? Although if she had to be truthful with herself, she hasn't put up much of a fight with him so far. Oh you got coffee, come on in! She rolled her eyes.

"Well for 1," he stuck out his pointer finger, "I'm not them, and for 2," he stuck up his middle finger as well, "I have ways of making you talk."

She smiled. He had ways of making her do a lot of things if he wanted to, she mused. Like love him, forgive him, crave him, hate him…all simultaneously.

"So you're going to torture me with your presence until I relent and let you fix me?"

"I'm not trying to fix you, Liv. There's nothing to fix, you're perfect," he cleared his throat and she raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue on, "I just want to be here for you, help in any way I can. If you don't want to talk about you right now to some asshole who hasn't picked up a phone in a while…"

"Three years." She interjected.

"Fine, three years. Then at least…" he lifted his hand, her knee was close to his, close enough to touch, to bump if he shifted just right, but instead he dropped his hand of top of the clothed joint, "Then at least just talk to me. Let me be here. And we can go from there."

She looked down at his hand. It was on her knee. The heat from his fingers searing a spot on her flesh…she could feel the remaining ice in her thawing. Just like that, just as he always had, he warmed her.

He squeezed slightly on her knee and it brought her eyes up to his. They were softer, "What do you want to talk about, Liv."

A wide grin stretched across her face. "You. I want to talk about you."


End file.
